


The Buffet Date

by FatlockFills



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Belly Kink, Fat Character, Fatlock, Food Kink, Gorging, M/M, Stuffing, Weight Gain, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 12:20:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2269452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FatlockFills/pseuds/FatlockFills
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg takes Mycroft to the local Chinese buffet, where Mycroft samples every single dish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Buffet Date

'Is that really all you're getting?” Greg eyed Mycroft's plate incredulously. There were a few tiny meatballs, bites of sushi, and some curry beef with broccoli. “I paid for the whole buffet, you know.” He winked, and the ginger boy across from him blushed a little.

Mycroft Holmes had caught Greg’s eye since school started, but now it was May and soon they’d be going their separate ways for good if he didn’t do something. So he’d done something, and here he and Mycroft were, on a date, at the Chinese buffet in town. Like most Chinese buffets, it didn’t contain itself to dumplings and sweet and sour pork—it also had simple sushi (for some reason) and tons of generic favorites: mashed potatoes, mac and cheese, and so on. 

"No, I’m going to get more. I just don’t really like the sauces mixing, so I don’t put that much on a plate."

"Oh, good. Because I came from football practice and I’m ready to eat a horse." Greg patted his flat stomach, sad that the table prevented him from seeing Mycroft’s. The other boy actually had a stomach worth looking at, that pushed out against the fabric of his shirt and sagged over his belt just a little. 

They matched each other plate for plate for the first three, but Greg at a lot more food. He really was ravenous. Mycroft took less to a plate, but when he cleared his third he got up again. “Coming?” he asked, and Greg shook his head. 

"Give me a minute. I’m going to wait before I tackle dessert." 

"Less to a plate, but more plates," Mycroft said with a smile and went back to the buffet line. 

God, he could eat. Greg sat there, rubbing his own full belly, while Mycroft went back again and again. After the fifth plate Greg could see that the curve of his stomach was more pronounced. After the seventh he could see the outline of Mycroft’s belly button beneath the fabric. He encouraged Mycroft at every bite, distracted him with stories, and praised him every time he went back for more. After the tenth plate (all of them still filled so delicately) Mycroft turned sideways to get out of the booth and then paused, resting, before forcing himself to stand with a low grunt. He looked weighed down by the belly that had sprouted; he’d had a stomach before, but now he looked packed. When he finished that plate (He’d laughed about wanting to sample every dish, and now he only had about six to go) a few minutes later, Greg got up instead. 

"I’m going to grab dessert anyway. I’ll bring you back a plate—you just have everything at the end of the 6th steam table left, right?" 

Greg piled Mycroft’s plate high with giddy excitement and carried it back over reverently. “What about your dessert?” Mycroft asked when Greg set his plate down in front of him. 

Greg blushed, and hurried back to get some. And then more, for himself and his date. 

—-

"12 plates. The servers looked furious." Greg chuckled as he drove Mycroft home. He was going to have to run a few extra laps before practice tomorrow; he’d eaten a few more desserts than he’d meant to, and he felt comfortably overfull. 

Mycroft looked blissful, and stuffed. The seat belt wrapped around his bloated gut, sinking into the layer of chub and yet not compressing it too much. His shirt had gone from fitted to skin tight, and his belly spilled out the bottom in a strip of white flesh that neither his trousers nor his shirt could reach anymore. He was plainly sleepy from his binge. “I’m probably banned from going back.” 

"I’ll find somewhere else to take you. If you’ll come out with me again, that is." 

"You want to go out again," Mycroft’s voice wasn’t surprised, which made it less of a question than the phrasing did. He rubbed his round gut. "Even after I made such a pig of myself?" 

They were at his house; the nicest Greg had seen, but then, the Holmeses had cash to burn. “Yeah. Even after that. Maybe I’m just a hog farmer.” That came off funnier in his head, and he cringed before Mycroft gave him a knowing look. 

"Yeah, I think maybe you are." Mycroft let it linger in the car before he opened the door, using both hands to pull himself up and groaning as he started making his slow, food-heavy waddling way up into the house.

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous said: Fic request: Teen mystrade where greg is a bit of a chubby chaser plz ?


End file.
